Rozelin jolted awake, the sunlight slicing through her window like a blade. She blinked against the brightness, disoriented. The small clock on her desk ticked steadily, each second echoing in her mind.
Ten minutes late. No, fifteen.
She leaped from her bed, a tangle of midnight blue hair flying in every direction.
“Great,” she muttered as she fumbled for her robes. The intricate symbols of her heritage sprawled across the fabric, but right now, they felt more like a noose than a garment. She tugged it over her head, struggling to find the sleeves.
A fleeting look in the mirror unveiled a chaotic image, a tangled mane of midnight blue hair surrounding a face etched with urgency. Her eyes, brimming with panic, flitted over her reflection as if seeking solace. “Focus,” she murmured, her voice barely escaping her lips. Driven by determination, she hurriedly began to braid her hair, fingers flying against the relentless march of the clock as she raced toward the door, the burden of her heritage bearing down on her like an unyielding tide.
The moment she opened it, chaos ensued. Her foot caught on the edge of a pile of scrolls she had left there the night before, sent tumbling by a gust of wind that swept through the hallway. Rozelin flailed, arms windmilling as she fought for balance but only succeeded in stumbling forward.
“Of all days!” she exclaimed as scrolls unfurled around her like confetti at a dismal party.
She managed to steady herself against the wall and bent down to collect the scattered papers.
“What are you doing?” A voice chimed from behind her. It was Edrin, one of her human servants, arms crossed with an amused grin plastered across his face.
“Nothing,” Rozelin replied tersely, shoving a few scrolls into a messy pile without even glancing up.
Edrin knelt beside her. “Looks like you’re auditioning for some kind of acrobatics show.” He reached out and handed her an especially long scroll that had wriggled away from the rest.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, rolling it tightly and tossing it onto a nearby table with little care.
Rozelin straightened up and shot him a glance filled with both gratitude and irritation. “I don’t need help; I just need—”
“To wake up earlier?” he interjected with a chuckle.
With an exasperated sigh, Rozelin crossed her arms and leaned against the table cluttered with papers and inkpots. “It’s not that simple.”
He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, allowing her to gather herself amidst the mess surrounding them.
Edrin led Rozelin down the winding stone corridors of the castle, sunlight filtering through stained glass windows and casting colorful patterns on the floor. The air hummed with tension as they approached Toth’s chamber, a grand door carved with intricate designs that hinted at both majesty and foreboding.
“Do you think he’ll let me train today?” Rozelin asked, a hopeful lilt in her voice despite the knot tightening in her stomach.
Edrin shrugged. “He’s got his own ideas about what’s best for you. I wouldn’t count on it.”
As they reached the imposing door, Rozelin paused for a moment to take a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter that lay ahead. She felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety swirling within her, each breath a reminder of the weight of her father’s expectations. Edrin, ever the supportive presence by her side, pushed the door open with a gentle yet firm hand, revealing Toth seated on a throne-like chair draped in shadows that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. His fierce crimson eyes glowed like embers in the dim light, casting an eerie yet captivating aura around him, making it clear that he was a figure of both authority and mystery.
“Rozy,” he boomed, his voice commanding and filled with authority. “Come forth.”
She entered, a spark of determination igniting in her chest. Edrin remained just behind her, casting a wary glance at Toth.
“Father,” she greeted, keeping her tone steady despite the unease crawling up her spine.
Toth gestured for her to approach. “I have an important task for you.” He paused as if weighing his words carefully. “The magic tools from last week need purification. Malice clings to them like a stubborn shadow.”
Rozelin’s heart sank at the mention of menial chores cleverly disguised as responsibilities. A surge of frustration threatened to rise within her, but she fought to keep it at bay, determined not to let her discontent show on her face. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that this was all part of proving her worth to Toth, her father, and she would find a way to transform these tasks into something meaningful.
“Is that all?” she replied, masking her disappointment with a calm facade.
Toth nodded firmly, unaware of her frustration. “You need to make sure they’re purified before I permit you to pursue any… more perilous tasks.”
She clenched her jaw, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I want to prove myself by facing real challenges! There are monsters lurking beyond our borders—dangerous creatures that need to be dealt with!”
Toth’s expression hardened, a storm brewing behind his crimson eyes. He leaned forward, the weight of his authority pressing down on Rozelin like an iron shackle.
“Facing monsters is not a game,” he declared, each word deliberate. “You must understand the responsibility that comes with your heritage. The monsters you wish to confront require more than bravado; they demand strength and wisdom.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts’,” Toth interrupted, voice rising like thunder in the stillness of the chamber. “Your safety is paramount. I will not allow you to engage with those creatures.”
Rozelin’s chest tightened as frustration threatened to overflow. The room felt suffocating, shadows creeping closer as if drawn by her anger. She opened her mouth to argue further but stopped herself, recalling how he had always shielded her from harm.
“Purify the tools,” Toth commanded again, cutting through her thoughts like a blade. “Once that is done, perhaps we can discuss further training.”
Rozelin bit back her retort and nodded stiffly.
“Yes, Father.” Her voice lacked conviction; disappointment colored each syllable.
Edrin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she turned away from Toth’s imposing presence. “You’ll get your chance,” he murmured softly.
“Will I?” She glanced back at Toth’s resolute figure seated on his throne—an immovable force in her life—and then at Edrin’s earnest expression.
“Trust me,” Edrin encouraged with a grin that brightened the heavy atmosphere just a bit. “You have it in you; just keep pushing forward.”
She managed a faint smile in response.
Rozelin stepped out of her father’s chamber, the weight of Toth’s expectations pressing down on her shoulders. Edrin fell into step beside her, his presence a flicker of light against the shadow of frustration that clung to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing sideways at her.
She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just peachy.”
The hallway stretched before them, stone walls lined with tapestries depicting ancient battles and heroic deeds. Each step echoed in the silence as they made their way toward the room where the magic tools awaited purification.
Edrin walked with an easy gait, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “You know, purifying those tools might not be all bad. Think of it as an opportunity to showcase your skills.”
Rozelin raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into her voice. “My skills in cleaning?”
“No, no! Your skills in magic,” he corrected quickly, his hands gesturing animatedly. “This is your chance to impress Toth without directly confronting any monsters.”
She sighed, feeling a mix of gratitude and irritation at his attempts to boost her spirits. “I appreciate it, Ed. But you know how he is.”
They reached a heavy wooden door marked with arcane symbols that pulsed faintly in the dim light. Edrin placed a hand on the door’s surface.
Edrin pushed the door open, and a faint chill swept over them, tinged with an electric energy that made the hair on Rozelin’s arms stand on end. The room beyond was dimly lit, filled with shelves cluttered with an array of magic tools, each one shimmering with residual energy.
Rozelin stepped inside, her eyes scanning the chaotic array before her. Some tools shone with vibrant light, while others flickered dimly, as though burdened by invisible weights.
“Wow,” Edrin breathed, taking in the sight. “Looks like a treasure trove of potential.”
She frowned at a particularly large shield that lay on a table, its surface marred with dark splotches of malice. “It’s more like a graveyard,” she replied, crossing her arms.
“Come on, it’s just waiting for you to breathe some life back into it!” He approached the shield, tracing his fingers over its rough surface.
Rozelin grimaced at Edrin’s declaration.
“It’s irritating listening to you trying to make it more of an accomplishment than it really is, but I guess we should get started,” she said finally, rolling up her sleeves and focusing her energy on the first tool.
Edrin watched her with an encouraging smile as she summoned her magic, letting it flow through her fingertips toward the small device in front of her. The air thickened with tension as she concentrated, drawing out the malice that clung to it like fog.
With each surge of her power, a warm glow emanated from her fingertips, casting a shimmering light that pressed back against the advancing darkness. She felt the shadows receding slightly from the surface of the tool, as if they were being seared by an invisible fire, their sinister tendrils pulling away in reaction to her focused effort. The air around her buzzed with energy, heightening the tension in the room as the malevolent presence started to fade, allowing fresh mana to flow freely through the tool once more.
“That’s one down,” Edrin exclaimed, his voice vibrant with excitement as he encouraged Rozelin. A triumphant smile spread across his face while he meticulously arranged several more magical tools on the table in need of purification.
Rozelin sighed as she set down the now-purified tool, a flicker of irritation bubbling within her. Edrin’s enthusiasm seemed boundless, his energy infectious, yet at that moment, it felt like a weight pressing down on her.
“Ed,” she said, brushing her braid aside, “you’re way too into this.” Leaning against the table with her arms crossed, she watched him bounce around the room as if he were in a contest to see who could make the most magic tools shine.
He looked up from polishing another item, an exaggerated grin stretching across his face. “What’s not to love? We’re bringing them back to life!”
“Bringing them back to life,” she echoed, rolling her eyes. The room was thick with the malevolence of the magic tools that needed restoration, the repetitive task gnawing at her spirit. “This isn’t what I want to be doing.”
“What do you mean?” Edrin paused, genuine confusion etched across his features. He wiped his hands on his trousers and stepped closer.
Rozelin glanced around the dim room again, shadows dancing against the walls. Each tool sparkled with possibilities yet felt mundane compared to the dangers lurking outside—monsters waiting for someone brave enough to confront them. She longed for more than this drudgery; she craved action and purpose.
“I want to face those creatures,” she admitted, frustration seeping into her tone. “I want to show my father I’m capable of more than just… cleaning.”
Edrin tilted his head thoughtfully. “But purifying these tools is part of proving yourself too! You’ll need control of your mana when you face those monsters.”
“Maybe,” Rozelin said, biting her lip as thoughts whirled in her mind. She leaned back against the table and studied Edrin’s bright green eyes, so full of faith in her abilities.
But the reality was suffocating—her father’s fears wrapped around her like chains, confining her within these stone walls while danger loomed just beyond their reach.
“I feel like I’m stuck,” she confessed quietly, the weight of expectation heavy in her chest. “There has to be something more than this.”
Edrin took a step closer, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding as he regarded her with sincerity.
“I’m sure you’ll get there, Rozy.”